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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23519155">A Little Wager</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fumm95/pseuds/Fumm95'>Fumm95</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>As Bright As Stars (BoL&amp;S) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blades of Light and Shadow (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And everyone else noticed, Bets &amp; Wagers, F/M, Found Family, Friendly banter, Look there had to be lots of yearning moments during that weeklong timeskip, Pre-Relationship, Teasing, betting pools</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:02:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,573</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23519155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fumm95/pseuds/Fumm95</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>During the week of travel from the ocean to the Deadwood, Nia notices that Mal and Imtura seem to be planning something...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyril Starfury/Main Character (Blades of Light and Shadow)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>As Bright As Stars (BoL&amp;S) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655983</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Little Wager</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I blame a friend on tumblr for half of this idea lol. Also I've really neglected Mal and Imtura; they're a ton of fun to write.</p>
<p>Thank god for the hiatus in this book because I have like three more ideas that I need to work on...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mal and Imtura were up to something.</p>
<p>There was no other explanation for it. Too many times, she had seen them together, talking in low voices, glancing about with nervousness and cutting off whenever Csilla or Tyril got within earshot. Mal would linger by the wheel of the ship, Imtura slouched over to accommodate his height, as they sailed, conversing in voices so low that the winds couldn’t carry them. They would sit together by the campfire before turning in, murmuring softer than the crackling logs. If she weren’t completely convinced that there was nothing between them, she might have suspected that they were interested in each other.</p>
<p>As it was, they were managing to be suspicious enough that even Threep noticed, though in typical fashion, his investigation was easily bypassed through the bribery of fish, a fact that the nesper recounted to her with far more pride than it warranted.</p>
<p>In the end, it was simply a matter of timing. Days had turned into weeks after leaving the horrifying shores of that island behind them. They arrived back onto solid land, Imtura bidding a long farewell to her crew, and off they had set for the elven city of Undermount, yet another place she had heard of only in tales at the temple. Then again, the entire trip had been an exercise in firsts and unusual circumstances—she would never have guessed that her first trip out into the world would have brought her to these individuals, not lead to her traveling through all of Morella. They camped in open fields and wooded camps, trading off watch and sharing duties with slowly growing efficiency and the help of Csilla’s seemingly endless patience.</p>
<p>It was one such evening that she found her opportunity, settling in earlier than typical but she was hardly going to complain after days of hard travel she was not familiar with. The two elves had disappeared into the woods, debating the best methods for identifying firewood, when she caught the suspicious pair together once more, heads bent toward each other as they set up their tents. As she watched, Imtura snorted, tossing some quip over her shoulder that had Mal wheezing as she slid one of the poles into place.</p>
<p>Before manners and good sense could remind her that it was a conversation they could very well wish to keep private, she marched across the camp, coming to a stop beside them with her hands on her hips. Threep, as if sensing her intent, or at least the potential for some excitement, emerged to perch on the log beside her.</p>
<p>“Can we help you, Priestess? And I don’t mean in getting out of cooking duties.”</p>
<p>“What are you whispering about all the time? And don’t try to hide it. We’ve,” she indicated Threep, who sat upright with all of the primness he could manage, “both seen you.”</p>
<p>To her annoyance, they traded an amused look, Imtura’s with some amount of what she might almost call encouragement if that actually made any sense. She frowned, barely resisting the urge to stamp her foot, though judging by the expression that crossed Mal’s face as he sat back on his heels, her temptation did not go unnoticed.</p>
<p>“All right, Priestess, calm down. Let’s not get your smallclothes in a twist now.”</p>
<p>Imtura audibly snorted, though managed to look contrite about it when she glared. “It’s nothing that exciting, I swear.”</p>
<p>“Then why are you so reluctant to discuss it whenever Csilla or Tyril are around?” She gasped, staring from one to the other with wide eyes. “Are you planning on committing some kind of crime?”</p>
<p>“You think we’d be more willing to discuss getting in trouble with the law with a priestess of the light around than with an adventurer? You’re probably not wrong about Lord Grump but the kit’s a good sort.”</p>
<p>“‘Lord Grump?’”</p>
<p>He shrugged. “I know, I know, it needs some work. Haven’t gotten a chance to brainstorm proper names yet.”</p>
<p>“We’ve noticed, <em>Mal the Magnificent</em>.”</p>
<p>Groaning, he visibly wilted. “One time. I try out a title <em>one time</em> and I never hear the end of it.”</p>
<p>“Get used to it, buddy.” She winced on Mal’s behalf; the elbow Imtura jammed into his side looked like it hurt. “Anyway, as much as I hate to break up this session of poking fun at Mal, that discussion can continue when our fearless leader comes back while this one can’t.”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>“Because it’s about her. And her little grumpy shadow.”</p>
<p>In spite of herself, her lips twitched at the face she was certain said grumpy shadow would have made if he knew what his latest epithet had become. But if they were talking about him, then surely that meant…</p>
<p>“Are they…?” She turned to glance in the direction that the pair in question had disappeared off to. It did make sense, in some way, given how Csilla seemed to be the only one who could get him to relax. “They’re, ah…” What did the priests call it again? “Are they having relations?”</p>
<p>Mal snorted and shook his head. “You can just ask if they’re having sex, Priestess. And no. We don’t think so. Not yet, at least, otherwise someone in the camp would surely know, which means everyone in the camp would know. As for when… That there’s the golden question. Literally.”</p>
<p>Golden question… gold… She looked from one to the other, wearing almost identical grins, and gasped again. “You two have a bet!”</p>
<p>The smile on Mal’s face twisted into a grimace. “A little louder, please? I don’t think they heard you over in Whitetower.”</p>
<p>“Sorry!” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Am I right? I’m right though, right?”</p>
<p>“Congratulations,” he returned, deadpan. “You’ve done it. Truly, a deductive marv— Ow!”</p>
<p>Imtura shook her head with faux sympathy, as though she hadn’t just elbowed him again, even harder than the last. “Ignore him, Nia. He’s just upset that the so-called Lord Grump is gonna be getting more action than him soon.”</p>
<p>Laughing at the incoherent sputtering that that received, she squatted beside them. “So what did you say?”</p>
<p>“Are you asking me what I bet?” Beside her, Mal wheezed again, this time as a hand clapped him on the back, hard. “Look what you’ve done, you scoundrel. Corrupted a nice young priestess of light with your gambling and your stories. Next she’ll be wanting to join a thieves’ guild and break into some rich man’s estate.”</p>
<p>“And that’s a problem how?” The question was more croak than coherent sentence, but when she peered at him, this time with genuine worry, he waved her away. “Those stuck up assholes have it coming.”</p>
<p>“To you, maybe. Not to a priestess of light.” Imtura shook her head. “Honestly, the brains of some people… But back to your original question. Mal has ten gold that Tyril’s enough of a mess that it won’t be until we get to Whitetower, or even after we manage to beat the Shadow Court. <em>I</em> think he’s not giving Csilla enough credit. She’s determined, that’s for sure.”</p>
<p>“So you think…?”</p>
<p>“Oh, he’s still an oblivious idiot. Probably not until after we reach Undermount, at least.”</p>
<p>She pursed her lips while Threep made what she could only describe as a nesper’s equivalent of a scoff. “Foolish, both of you. That only holds true if you are expecting <em>him</em> to make the first move.”</p>
<p>When only silence followed his proclamation, he blinked, tail twitching so violently it nearly hit her in the face. “What?”</p>
<p>“Nothing. Just didn’t take you sophisticated beings for gossips is all.”</p>
<p>Despite his diminutive form and position on the ground, the look Threep gave Mal was impressively contemptuous. “Being companions of the elves meant we were deeply entwined in their lives, social and otherwise.”</p>
<p>“Meaning you were all a bunch of nosy busybodies.”</p>
<p>She cleared her throat before Threep could snipe back. “He does have a point though, doesn’t he? I would not put it past Csilla to say something first.”</p>
<p>Before Mal could say anything, Imtura cocked an eyebrow at her. “Would you care to add something to the pot, then?”</p>
<p>For a moment, she hesitated, then, glancing at Threep once more, who gave her hand a nudge, shrugged. “Why not? Five gold on Csilla making the first move before we even reach Undermount.”</p>
<p>Mal whistled, low and long, and made a note on a scrap of parchment, on which he had already written his and Imtura’s wagers. “All right, then. We’ll see what happens.”</p>
<p>“See what happens?”</p>
<p>They all jumped as Csilla stepped into view, closer than Nia was expecting, her companion nearly fading out of the shadows behind her. The woman gave them all a curious look, pushing her hair behind her ear, while Tyril frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.</p>
<p>“Nothing!”</p>
<p>Her response, louder and quicker than normal, was enough to draw a raised eyebrow, but thankfully, Csilla said nothing, instead directing Tyril to set down the wood to start a fire. “If you’re certain. Anyway, we’ll get a fire going so you can start cooking soon, Nia, and Imtura and Mal can finish putting up the tents. Though I suppose if you two don’t finish, it’s your own loss; I’ll take first watch with Tyril while you figure it out.”</p>
<p>In spite of herself, she turned, catching Imtura’s eye as the other woman raised an eyebrow, and burst into laughter.</p>
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